Superman
by speedermeen
Summary: In which Mr. Clarke hears Mike and Dustin calling for his help- from the back of the bad mens’ car. {Oneshot}


"Mike, this is all your fault!" Dustin whisper-yelled at the kid leaning against his back.

"How is it my fault?" The other exclaimed, a little too loudly.

"Shut up!"

It was the man in the passenger seat of the car. Mike jumped and asked again, with a lower voice.

"Well, maybe because the only reason that we've been kidnapped is because _your_ girlfriend is a telekinetic wanted by the government," Dustin retorted sarcastically.

Mike rolled his eyes so hard he thought they'd fall out of his head. Instead of answering however, he struggled with the handcuffs on his wrists, which were interlocked with Dustin's.

Dustin took his silence as a win.

"By any chance, could you turn the air up?" He asked the men in the front seat. "I'm practically melting back here."

"It's broken," replied the man, who had no intention of fulfilling his request, even if it weren't broken.

After a few minutes, though, the windows were rolled down.

Dustin breathed in a sigh of relief as the wind whipped across his face, just as he was beginning to perspire.

As the car rolled to a stop at the light, he felt a nudge in his back and turned, discovering Mike looking urgently at him. Flicking his eyes from Dustin's face to out the right side's window (Mike's window), he indicated to the car pulling to a stop next to them.

Dustin scrunched his nose at Mike.

"We need to yell to them?" Mike hissed.

The back seats of the little car had been pulled down to accommodate the boys- who, yes, had been sliding all over the back the whole ride. The two of them scooched toward the window, hopefully nonchalantly.

They had each been facing a side of the car. Now Dustin was toward the back and Mike toward the front.

"Mr. Clarke?" Dustin spluttered, catching sight of the car behind their previous target.

At the same time Mr. Clarke looked over, the men in the front noticed the boys by the window.

The driver yelled "Hey!"

Mr. Clarke looked perplexed.

"Mr. Clarke!" Mike yelled, craning his neck to see his teacher. "Help!"

"Dustin? Mike?"

The man in the passenger seat reached back, grabbing the boys by any part he could reach and shoving them away from the window.

"Boys?" Mr. Clarke called in panic.

"HELP!"

Despite the light still glowing red, the driver stepped on the gas, speeding away, leaving the boys' only hope gaping after them.

[Line break in the form of Mr. Clarke's legendary mustache... — ]

"Wait wait wait WHAT?" Scott Clarke practically yelled at his steering wheel. All he had wanted to do was visit Jen for her birthday.

But he had bigger problems now.

The car had just drove through a red light. Also, two of his best students sat in the back, tied together, calling for his help.

He wanted to call the Chief, but Scott knew that he didn't have enough time to stop and make the call. By the time that happened _and_ by the time the Chief arrived, the boys would be long gone.

Or dead.

So, yes, that's why Scott Clarke was following the small black car at 50 MPH over the speed limit.

[Mr. Clarke amiright guys?]

"If you boys pull a stunt like that again, I'll blow that one's brains out," the man in the passenger seat threatened, pointing his hand gun at Dustin. "You-" He looked at Mike. "-are the boyfriend. The only one we need alive."

Dustin nodded fearfully. Mike just sneered. "It doesn't matter. El's gonna kill you. She'll kick your as-"

Dustin elbowed him, suprised at his outburst. Maybe it was because he had the comfort of being "the only one needed alive".

Both men in the front snickered. "We'll see."

"What the heck is that supposed to mean?" Mike demanded.

"Do you really think we'd go through all this trouble just to get killed?" The driver asked.

"Well, you definitely seemed pretty stupid when you opened the window at a stop light with two captives in the back," Mike muttered.

"Well," the man replied, obviously aware of that mistake. "You kids won't be quick to talk smack when this is over."

Dustin thought he heard "Yeah 'cause you'll be dead" from other man, but decided to file that under "Things Dustin Hears When He's Scared That Never Actually Happened".

Awhile later, the car pulled to a stop in front of a suburban house, in the middle of a neighborhood. A man was mowing the lawn. Two women were talking on the sidewalk. A kid about Dustin and Mike's age was delievering papers on his bike.

Both men came around the back and unlocked the boys' handcuffs.

"Remember what I said before," that previous passenger threatened, making a gun with his hand and pressing it into Dustin's hair.

Dustin nodded eagerly. Mike crossed his arms, but technically went along with the plan of acting inauspiciously from the car to the house, as he appeared to look like a moody teenager (even though it wasn't an act).

He climbed out of the car though. The driver clamped his hand onto his shoulder and steered him towards the front porch.

Mike saw the other man hold Dustin with an arm around his shoulders, holding the gun pointed at the boy's back, concealed inside his jacket.

It was only twenty feet. Twenty feet. But as soon as they stepped out of the car, one of the women on the sidewalk called to the driver.

"Marcus!" She waved at the other woman and jogged over.

"Catherine!" The driver, Marcus, greeted through gritted teeth.

"Hi!" She was a bubbly woman, in her thirties probably, with bleach blonde hair and a curvy figure. She looked down at Mike. "Who's this little guy here?" She cooed, as if he were ten years younger than he was.

Marcus scrambled for an answer.

"I'm Mike Wheeler," Mike replied, plastering on a fake smile, sticking out his hand. Maybe he could get the lady to notice that something was obviously wrong.

"Is this your uncle?" She asked, still grinning.

"No," Mike replied in the same uppity tone as before.

Her grin faltered. Her eyes flew up to Marcus for answers. But Marcus just squeezed Mike's shoulder tighter, definitely leaving a bruise, as if to remind him of his threats.

"Girlfriend's kid," Marcus finally offered. "I'm babysitting for the night. Bye!"

He steered Mike back toward the house. The boy noticed that Dustin and the other man must have already gotten inside. And that gave him an idea.

He broke into a sprint, vaulting up all of the porch steps, flinging open the door, running blindly into the dark house, tackling the nearest shape-

"Oof!" That "shape" was not the man with the gun. It was a chair.

Mike struggled to his feet and was immediately pushed back to the ground. It was Marcus. The man was furious.

"This is what happens," Marcus panted, noosing the teenager's wrists together behind his back and grabbed a fistful of black hair, forcing Mike to looked at Dustin. "When you don't obey."

"No! I'm sorry! Don't-" Mike pleaded, his voice an octive higher than normal as he squirmed. The other man buried the gun in Dustin's curls.

"Mike!"

"Do it!"

The door banged open, light splintering into Mike's vision. The man with the gun, swung his hand- with the gun- up to cover his eyes. The new person dove onto him, knocking the gun away.

The other man fell, his head colliding with the floor with a sickening crack. Dustin was still standing (and screaming).

Mike tried to see who their savior was, but Marcus pressed his face into the cool tile. He assumed Hopper, though was confused as to how he found them. Maybe Mr. Clarke told him.

But as Mike celebrated the small victory, he was flipped over, and Marcus was pulling him to his feet. The man had his own gun. He pointed it at Dustin.

"I'm getting what I came for!" He yelled madly. "Eleven will be ours again!" Dustin had begun to run at them, but Marcus waved the gun at him. "Don't move!"

Dustin held up his hands and Mike wondered where the mystery person went.

"The two of us-" he indicated toward Mike and himself. "-are going to walk out of here, peacefully. You are going to let us. And-"

Marcus collapsed to the floor, almost taking Mike with him. But the boy remained standing, panting, looking around for his rescuer.

He blinked s couple of times when he saw Mr. Clarke standing triumphantly over Marcus, holding the gun like a club.

"Not today bitch," Mr. Clarke muttered.

[Wow what a guy, my boi.]

Mike rubbed his wrists as Mr. Clarke led him and Dustin outside.

Dustin stared in utter adoration and astonishment at his science teacher, for two reasons. One: he totally just saved their butts. But also: _Mr. Clarke cursed._

A woman with blonde hair- most likely the one Mike and one of the bad men had been talking to- ran toward them.

She was in hysterics, hugging the two boys and thanking Mr. Clarke for saving them. Mr. Clarke looked at Dustin, as if to ask if they knew her. Dustin shook his head slighly through a hug.

By the time the woman had finally calmed down and run inside to grab some tea (despite their polite denials of her offer), Hopper's car came speeding into the driveway.

The chief came sprinting out, only stopping when he saw Dustin and Mike sitting on the steps together, talking.

"Wait-"

"Chief!"

Hopper spun to find Mr. Clarke on the lawn. Waving him over.

Hopper was not quite able to wrap his head around the fact that he had received a call from a woman that told him two boys- one of which was named Mike Wheeler- had been kidnapped and were being taken into the house across the street, and that a man had told her to call him as that man ran into the house (unarmed), but now he was walking toward Scott Clarke and watching the two boys- safe and sound- walk over to him.

Of course Hopper knew it was inevitable for the bad men to find out about El and Mike's relationship. Also that he should've kept a closer eye on the impulsive and reckless teenage boy dating his telekinetic teenage daughter.

And when Hopper had heard the name _Mike Wheeler_ , he knew to expect bad men trouble.

"What the hell happened Scott?" Hopper hissed.

The man addressed sighed and gestured to the boys. "I was driving over to my girlfriend's house when I heard the boys calling for help, in the back of this car. I followed them and-"

"Totally destroyed those sons of b-"

"Dustin!"

"You said it first Mr. Clarke!"

Hopper glared at the Henderson kid and motioned for Scott to continue talking.

"That's pretty much it. They're unconscious in the house." The man folded his arms and looked at the boys. "Now you two have to tell me why those men took you. They said they wanted something? Eleven?"

Hopper glanced back at the car. A face was peering out. She was hanging out with him at the station when he got the call. He had told the girl to stay in the car until he assessed the situation- he didn't tell her that their rescue mission was for her boyfriend. He frowned and nodded to her. She flung the door open and bounded toward them.

That damn Wheeler kid, his face just lit up with joy when he caught sight of El. She jumped into his awaiting arms and pampered him with questions on his state. He told her she was fine.

"Oh, I'm fine too!" Dustin told her sarcastically. "Didn't almost get shot or anything!"

El hugged him, too, laughing. "I may not be your boyfriend or anything, but I definitely thought we were friends!"

"Woah, wait Mike has a girlfriend?" Scott spluttered as El moved back over to Mike and took his hand.

Mike nodded, frowning slightly at his surprise. He made a gesture like he was presenting her. "Yeah, um, this is El. Short for Eleven."

 _ **Superman's first name is Clark. Mr. Clarke's last name is Clarke. Coincidence? I think not. They only added the 'e' to throw us off.**_

 _ **But, anyway, let me know what ya'll think in the reviews, did you like the fic, do you agree with my conspiracy theory? the usual.**_


End file.
